


Shot Through the Heart

by DameOfNoDelicacy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: 585 - Freeform, ?? - Freeform, Altered Mental States, Confession, Delirium, Love Confession, M/M, Missing Scene, Sickfic, a not altogether pleasant description of a gunshot wound, also he's kind of an ass, good thing the love of his life is a healer eh?, hakkai has a guilt complex, idk gojyo's not in a good way tho, maaaaaaybe this is a, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:43:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameOfNoDelicacy/pseuds/DameOfNoDelicacy
Summary: Remember that one time when Chin Yisou's little doll minion showed up and blasted Gojyo with that creepy-ass seed thing? Remember how Sanzo subsequently shot Gojyo in the chest? Remember how Gojyo was up and kicking and running around the forest, good as brand-spanking new, the next day?Yeah. Well. I'm calling shenanigans on that one.This fic is about said shenanigans.All of which is to say: Behold, an ANGSTY, little piece in which Hakkai tends to Gojyo's gunshot wound and stews a bit about the whole Chin Yisou shindig, and in which Gojyo makes a fever-induced confession or two. Enjoy~





	Shot Through the Heart

The bandage was dirty, and it smelled, and it was caked to hardness with old, stale blood.

Gojyo, of course, hadn't said a damned thing. He'd let wry smirks and crude insults cross his lips, and he'd shared celebratory drinks and smokes and smiles with his travelling companions, and, in the end, he'd lain down to sleep, alone, and soon he was adrift in his dreams, breathing shallowly, and with one hand resting gingerly upon his chest.

Hakkai, for his part, cursed himself for a fool.

What good was it, he wondered, to have cleaned Chin Yisou's blood from his hands for a second and final time, if he was fated to stain them again with the blood of his friend?

He'd woken in the small hours of the morning to find Gojyo's body burning with fever and his face twisted with pain. His hand, idly spread across his chest when Hakkai had bedded down for the evening, had clutched, with weak but desperate fervor, at the dirty, dingy cloth of his undershirt. Hakkai had knelt by Gojyo's side, and had murmured soft words of comfort, and had pressed his hands, gentle with care and pulsing faintly with the telltale glow of qi, to Gojyo's temples, doing his best to still his suffering friend. _I should have paid attention,_ Hakkai had thought furiously, as he'd shifted the target of his qi downwards, from Gojyo's racing mind to his racing heart. _I should have known - should have realized -_

It was true that he'd been more than a little preoccupied these past several days, but that was no excuse for neglecting to care, wholly and completely, for his friends. He'd sighed his cold, callous relief, and he'd bound Goku's leg, and he'd tended to the bruises that his fingers had crushed into Sanzo's throat. And Gojyo - Gojyo, who had leapt back onto his feet mere hours after Sanzo had buried a bullet in his breast - had been permitted to stand apart, observing docilely, and hauling supplies into and out of the back of Jeep, and spreading out bedrolls and cookpots, and only occasionally resting, bending over and collapsing in on himself, hands on his knees and sweat on his brow.

Hakkai cursed himself again. It was, after all, the simplest and most straightforward thing, wasn't it? What kind of healer was he, if it hadn't even occurred to him to change a wounded man's bandage? What kind of person was he, if it hadn't even occurred to him to consider the most basic wellbeing of the man who had once saved his life?

He'd managed to keep his hands from quaking as he'd tugged at the fraying hem of Gojyo's shirt and slid it upwards, baring his stomach, his ribs, and the expanse of grubby cloth wrapped tightly around his chest. Gojyo had stirred faintly, dry lips twitching and dry brow furrowing, and for a moment, Hakkai had thought that he might wake - but Gojyo had only muttered something dark and incoherent, and had turned his head to the side, and had sunk back into sleep. _It's just as well_ , Hakkai had thought. For one thing, if Gojyo remained still and silent, it would make his work that much easier. For another, it would mean that Hakkai would not yet have meet Gojyo's uncanny eyes and put words around an apology - and, worse yet, around his shame.

Gojyo's wound, as Hakkai discovered when he finally managed to peel the bandages away from his skin, was still a cruel, wet, puckered thing. It was red and raw and uneven and stinking with the beginnings of infection. Involuntarily, Hakkai's shoulders tensed; no matter how many wounds he saw, it was impossible to get used to this sort of thing. Hakkai squinted hard, and he concentrated, and he laid one hand, palm down, upon Gojyo's chest. He cringed again as he recalled Sanzo's words; Sanzo had said, bluntly and without scruples or hesitation, that if Gojyo did not survive, it would be because his heart was not strong enough.

Hakkai, who could feel the dual powers of both cool qi and white-hot shame churning inside the very core of his being, couldn't help but beg to differ.

He could not say for how long he crouched by Gojyo's side, needling into the walls of his struggling heart with his qi and with his stolid determination. He managed to clear the corruption from Gojyo's ghastly wound, but Gojyo's skin still surged with seething, sweatless heat, and his closed eyelids still jerked and jolted, fluttering with fever-dreams. Hakkai felt his fingers begin to tremble and his arms begin to shake as he worked, but he refused to relent. _This is my doing,_ he thought, staring fixedly at Gojyo's wound, redoubling his efforts, and cursing himself for a third time. _This is my doing, my friend. It was Sanzo's gun, and it was Chin Yisou's wiles, yes - but I was the real cause._

"...that ain't true, y'know."

Hakkai's breath hitched. "Gojyo?" he said.

Gojyo, eyes still softly closed, flashed a sickly smile. "Hey," he said, his voice distant and dreamy. "Thought I heard you talkin' in my sleep."

"What did… _how_ did... did you…?"

At that, Gojyo's eyes flickered open. They were glassy and much too bright, and Hakkai wasn't wholly certain where their focus lay, but they were _open_ nonetheless, and for that reason, Hakkai couldn't help but feel relieved. "Ease up with that, all right?" Gojyo mumbled. One of his hands floated upwards to rest on top of Hakkai's, and he made a grisly, grating noise in the back of his throat that was, Hakkai thought, vaguely and painfully reminiscent of laughter. "No one's blaming you but yourself."

But Hakkai shook his head, and pressed his hand harder to Gojyo's chest. "You were hurt," he said, his voice hoarse and raw. "You were hurt, and now you're sick, and it's because I wasn't paying attention." He reached deep within himself for what little reserves of qi remained, and he watched, feeling that cold power and that hot shame well up within him again, as his hand began to glow once more. "I will heal you tonight, Gojyo," he said through clenched teeth. "I owe you that much, at the very, very least."

"I'm not gonna convince you to give it up, am I?"

"You certainly aren't, no."

"No matter what I say?"

"No matter what you say."

"I might have guessed as much." Gojyo sighed, and let his eyes drop closed again. "You keep doing what you're doing, Hakkai."

"Thank you, Gojyo."

"I think you're being stupid as hell, y'know."

"And I," Hakkai said, his words clipped and thick and quick, "think you should stop talking, my friend. It's hardly the best use of your strength at the moment."

"All right," Gojyo said, shaking his head gently back and forth, "all right. I gotcha, man. I'll shut up."

 _"Thank_ you, Gojyo."

"Any time." A ghost of that small smile crossed Gojyo's lips again. "Say," he said, his hazy eyes flickering open once more, "how desperate are you to blame yourself for something tonight?"

"That's an exceedingly strange question."

"It's pretty much right on the money, though."

"You're pushing your luck, Gojyo."

"Aww, c'mon - gimme some credit, won't ya?"

"I might consider doing so," Hakkai said tightly, "if you tell me why you asked."

Abruptly, Gojyo's chest shuddered beneath Hakkai's touch. For a moment, Hakkai was seized by a sharp pang of panic - but then, that strange, stilted echo of Gojyo's usual laughter escaped again from his half-open mouth.  "It's nothin', really," Gojyo said. "Promise."

"Oh?"

"I mean it."

"Try me?"

"I'm just sayin'," Gojyo slurred sleepily, "if you wanna blame yourself for fucking up my heart, you should backtrack a little bit."

Hakkai frowned. _What a peculiar thing to say._  "What on earth," he said, "could you possibly mean by that?"

At Hakkai's question, Gojyo grinned, big and bright. "Iss'simple."

"Is - is it?"

"Yeah, man. Real simple."

"Tell me?"

Gojyo's grin faded to a warm, wan smile. "I mean," he said softly, "that this little gunshot situation is nothin' compared to what you've already done to my heart."

"I'm sorry, I - Gojyo... ?”

"You dig me, right, man?"

Hakkai swallowed, hard; for some reason far, far beyond his grasp, his mouth had suddenly gone dry. "Gojyo," he said, "do you - do you mean to say - ?"

"What I'm sayin' is - I actually love you, Hakkai." Gojyo was still smiling as his hazy eyes slid slowly shut. "Like it or not, you left your mark on my heart a long damn time ago."

**Author's Note:**

> Been feeling a little bit funny about my writing lately so, uh - figured I'd say "screw it," post something, and see what happens?
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends! Much love to you all - and happy new year!


End file.
